


house of wolves

by offkeyathem



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Five is aged up, reader and him are sixteen, rebranded bc i didn't like the title, was i carry your heart(i carry it in mine), you can see the relationship as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offkeyathem/pseuds/offkeyathem
Summary: the traces of blood always follow you homelike the mascara tears from your getawayyou’re walking with blisters and running with shearsso unholy, sister of grace
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Reader, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	1. devil gonna set me free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time you kill someone, you're fourteen and the job is over in five seconds. You drop to the floor, letting a broken sob fall from your mouth because your humanity is still intact.

You remember.

Of course, you remember. That's all you are now, made of memories. Your childhood—not that you particularly like remembering that but who does—is very vivid, an itch at the back of your mind, something you've never been able to forget, no matter how hard you try, no matter how many painkillers you take to slow your mind down, those memories always force themselves into your consciousness.

Your father, though not biologically related(thank god, you say anytime someone asks), used your childhood as an experiment, that's what you and your seven—five, if you don't count the runaway and the dead—siblings are, a failed experiment.

You remember watching _Number Five_ jump through space until he was weak-kneed and vomiting, you remember watching _Number Three_ use her voice until it went hoarse and became painful to talk, you remember watching _Number One_ pull every muscle and fiber in his being lifting things that no human should be able to, you remember the countless nights of watching your mother bandage _Number Two_ up when his hands were bloody and raw from too many knives, you remember _Number Six_ heaving every time his stomach was ripped open by an eldritch monster, you remember _Number Four_ and the number of drugs from Mother's medicine cabinet you've smuggled for him because Five refused and you were the only other one fast enough to not be seen by Father. You remember _Number Seven_ , poor, sweet Number Seven, barely seen, barely acknowledged, barely heard.

Most of all, the one memory that becomes the most vivid in your breakdowns is when Father would turn his attention to you, _Number Eight,_ his favorite. You remember how he tested you every chance he got. You remember the one question he would ask you every time: _How fast can you really go?_

Faster than a speeding bullet is your answer. You've never been able to run any faster. No matter how hard he pushed you, no matter how many nights involved your blood, tears, and vomit. Everything's very clear in your mind. The trembling of your muscles after being forced to run laps until you fell(you've never fallen in front of him, you're too spiteful for that), the heaving of your lungs as you try to catch your breath between the end of one lap and the beginning of another, the number of painkillers you take just so you could do again the next day.

There are good memories too.

Vanya playing her violin while you sway to it, the music being the only thing to calm your racing mind that seemed go just as fast as your legs. Five reading to you in the hush of the night with only your little lamp as light. It was always _The Odyssey,_ sometimes in English, sometimes in the original Greek. You would curl up in your bed and let his voice lull you to sleep every night. Allison bringing home garden magazines and reading them together with Vanya, imagining your future in a cottage in the countryside. Sneaking out to Griddy's and binging on donuts, you boxed in between Five and Ben, watching Luther and Diego argue with each other. Klaus coming to you in the dead of night when Five has already snuck back to his room, waking you up. You put on an old song on your record player—it was the only thing your father has ever given to you—and you would dance(swaying in Klaus' description), getting rid of any ghosts that have decided to haunt him. 

Of course, you remember.

* * *

Out of all your siblings, Five is the one you're closest to.

After you had figured out you wouldn't get approval and affection from your father, you turned to your siblings. Five, with his protective nature, is the one to answer your pleas. 

When your father put you through an especially brutal training—one the others had been saved from—and your mother picked you off the ground because you had collapsed as soon as the door shut, Five would be right there helping the soulless droid patch you up—running burn cream over the bottom of your feet, wrapping them up, icing the bruises beginning their ascent up your shins before your mother hands you two painkillers and sends you on your way.

Five would help you to your room if the burns on the soles of your feet weren't too bad, otherwise, he'd stay with you in the obviously thrown together med-bay and if your mother and Pogo saw anything, they kept their mouths shut. Before your father would wake you all up at six in the morning, Five would spatial jump to his room just in time to hear the knocking on his door and a sharp voice telling him to wake up.

Father would come to the med-bay if you stayed there and would tell you to get up and ready for morning training. You would pull yourself off the bed, get dressed in a new uniform before having your mother rub new burn cream onto the bottom of your feet, wrapping them, and helping you put on your shoes. Then you would join your siblings at breakfast, pushing through the pain, never letting Father see the limp in your step or the hear the hiss that comes out of your mouth when the ball of your foot hit the ground. 

Five notices, though. 

He notices and he curses himself because he doesn't know how to stop your suffering. But he tries to help ease it any way he can and if that means allowing you to rest your legs on his lap while reading you to sleep, then he won't complain no matter how much he wants to.

* * *

It happens when you're thirteen. 

You're standing behind your chair, at the end of the table, facing Father and in between Vanya and Ben. You don't put your hands on your chair like everyone else, but Five, does because you like rebelling against Reginald Hargreeves as much as you can, even if it's in the small actions. You don't put your head down but you also don't follow Five in staring defiantly at Father. You stare straight ahead, like you're looking through Father. 

If Reginald had any emotions towards you, he'd describe it as haunting. 

You sit down and pick at the food, trying and failing to ignore Five stabbing the table with a butterknife. You meet his eyes as he demands to be allowed to time travel and you shake your head, silently telling him to sit down, not noticing Vayna doing the same next to you. You're both shaking your heads for different reasons though. 

Vayna shakes her head because she doesn't want any drama at the table that will cause Father to punish everyone. 

You, on the other hand, shake your head because you know what Five is trying to do and you don't want to lose him. As he runs out, you think whatever gods exist are toying with you and you hate it. You sigh and unfortunately, Father hears it. He gives you a sharp look, "Don't you dare, Number Eight!" But you ignore him and stand up anyway. You're out the door before he can blink.

You see Five and call out his name, trying to catch up to pull him back and make him wait but just as you reach out to grab his blazer, he disappears and your hand grabs thin air.

* * *

You get punished for your defiance.

Father makes you run laps until bruises cover the top of your knees and your feet are so burnt, you're sure it'll be hard to run after this. Your mother patches you up and you can't help but let out a choked sob when Five isn't waiting in the med-bay for you.

Mother carries you to your room where you'll spend the next three days healing. 

If she notices the way you sniffle when your eyes land on _The Odyssey_ or the way you pick it up and nearly crush against your chest, well, that'll just be a secret between you two.

* * *

You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when a blonde woman with a sharp smile that sets off alarms in your head approaches you one night after you snuck out, claiming to be from an organization called the Temps Commission. She introduces herself as the Handler and you can't help but think _snake._ You've been trained to recognize villains and well, the honey-smothered smile might fool anyone else, it doesn't fool you. The caution in your voice couldn't be clearer, "What do you want?" The smile widens, "For you to join us, of course!" She takes a good look at the bruising crawling up your legs, "It's a chance to get out of here, away from your father." The grin stretches into a chesire one. 

The sound of getting away from Reginald Hargreeves blocks out any alarms and you take her outstretched hand, disappearing in a blue light.

* * *

The first time you hold a gun, you're thirteen and wishing you could be anywhere else.

There's a grin in her voice as you shoot every one of the practice dummies in less than ten seconds, "Speed kills, right, Eight?" A knife replaces the gun and the dummies are beheaded in four seconds as if you're proving her point. You don't turn to her, if you're regretting your decision of trusting the Handler, she doesn't need to know. You snort, even Reginald's training was preferable to the hell she's putting you through.

* * *

The first time you kill someone, you're fourteen and the job is over in five seconds. You drop to the floor, letting a broken sob fall from your mouth because your humanity is still intact.

The Handler walks into the room, pats your head, and lets faux sympathy flow into her words, "Aw, don't feel bad, little Eightie. It needed to be done." Her fingers follow your skin over your forehead and cheek, landing at your chin and grabbing it, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm so proud of you."

This is the day you make the connection: _Killing gets approval and acceptance._ So you cut out your humanity with a blunt knife.

You don't let yourself wonder about your siblings and you especially don't let yourself remember the boy who can teleport, not even with _The Odyssey_ clutched in your grasp every night.

* * *

You stop aging when you turn sixteen. 

The blonde woman you've begun calling Mother doesn't bother to provide you with an answer and you don't bother asking. As far as anyone is concerned, it just means you can't die of old age. It means you can be her ruthless little war machine forever.

"What a deadly little thing you are," She tells you one night after your first official mission. Keith Rogers was your victim's name and according to Mother, he was changing the timeline so he needed to die. It was a quick job, over and done within ten seconds. The body didn't even have time to hit the floor before you're gone. 

What a deadly thing, indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love getting into new media and abandoning my other stories until i get back into them.  
> hope you enjoy!!! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated


	2. devil don't you fool me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Such a shame, really," The blonde woman dressed to the nines continues, "Maybe I should've put a tracker in you." Her voice turns to faux sorrow, "I mean, I trusted you to get a simple job done, and when I come to check on you, you're scheming with my arch-nemesis."

"Good job, Eightie," The Handler pinches your cheeks as you stand over the bodies of Ronnie and Anita Gill. "Go back to the Commission and when I get back, I'll take you to get ice cream."

"I'm not a child, Mother," You scowl. She waves dismissively, "Don't be testy, darling. I just want to reward you for such a well-done job. Besides," She leans in close, "we don't get to spend time together like we used to." Your frown gets deeper, "We have all the time in the world." She smiles, pearly whites on show, "That we do, dear, that we do." She pulls back, "Now, do as your told."

You nod and she kisses your cheek as a goodbye before waving you off.

If you had seen the crocodile grin on her face, you would've bolted right then and there. 

* * *

You hear of Reginald Hargreeves passing through the news on the TV in the home of your would-be victim who was still out. _Hmm,_ you think, _would the Handler mind if I visited the Hargreeves?_ You don't really think of them as your siblings anymore, it's been too long since you've seen them—seventeen years, to be exact. They're strangers to you now. But you want to visit because you remember Reginald and how he's the reason you're in the position you're in now. Grace and Pogo have to be holding a funeral service. You wonder if they'll bury or cremate him. _Either way,_ your lips curl into a cold smile, _I'm going to dance on his grave._

You grab your briefcase and disappear in a flash of blue light just as your victim opens the door.

You reappear a few days later in an alleyway a block away from the Umbrella Academy. You stash your briefcase in a safe place before smoothing down your black turtleneck and pants—everything you wore was black nowadays, almost like you were mourning your childhood or something—and walking to the front door of the Academy. 

Pogo is the first to spot you. His eyes widen, "Miss Eight!" It gathers the attention of Luther and Diego who seem to be the only other ones here. You chuckle nervously, waving one hand, "Hey, Pogo. Nice to you after all these years." 

Diego scoffs, "What are you doing here?" Before you can answer, Pogo is already speaking, "Indeed, Miss Eight, you don't look a day over sixteen." You nod, stepping closer, "I'll explain when everyone's here."

He goes to say something but the sound of humming interrupts him. You turn towards the sound and everyone probably expects you to run and hug Grace or something but you don't, too many years of physical affection being earned through the act of murdering or to humiliate you don't allow it. In fact, you seem to take a step back, Grace looks too similar to the Handler for you to be comfortable. 

You don't pay attention to the glares Luther and Diego are sending you, they were expected. What wasn't expected was Klaus appearing in the door, seeing you, and throwing his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to escape his grasp, "Eight! Oh man, am I happy to see you!" You eventually relax as much as you can, figuring Klaus was making sure you weren't dead. It has been a while since you've seen him. You take a deep breath through your nose, the smell of drugs crashing over you. You don't mention it for his sake. 

The next person to try to hug you is Allison. You don't even allow her close enough. 

The last person to come through the door is Vanya. You smile and say hello but do not attempt to do anything else(You'll blame yourself for this later). An argument starts out over Vanya's book that you don't participate in, you didn't even know she wrote one. As the argument continues, you take this time to go through the rooms of the unfamiliar house. In one of the rooms, you find a portrait of Five that makes your heart throb in pain, and because you've always been spiteful, you pull it down. There's a protest from Vayna who must have followed you, "Don't!"

"Vanya, you do realize why Reginald had this commissioned right?" You say as there's a loud crack as you break apart the frame, "It's not here to commemorate him, it's here as a reminder. _Look at how this brat disobeyed me, do you want to disappear too?"_ Vanya opens her mouth before closing it, forming back into her meek self as a rip sounds throughout the room as you tear apart the painting and throw it into the fire. You turn around to see everyone watching, well, glaring at you.

You don't let them question you, pushing past to go the kitchen. No one joins you. You rummage through the refrigerator, pulling out some turkey slices and an energy drink—a Redbull, you think but you didn't get a good glimpse at the brand nor do you really care—before getting the bread out and making a sandwich that you scarf down in seconds. You gulp down the energy drink, you'll need the extra boost to run from the Handler. 

You walk around the house, purposely avoiding the strangers that like to call themselves your siblings. You pointedly ignore the sound of an old eighties pop song coming on over a record player and when you see Vanya dancing in the foyer, you walk the other way.

You end up in your old room which looks like it had when the night you left. Your old records are sitting on a shelf and you begin to sift through them, smiling softly at the memories that come with each album cover. 

"Miss Eight," Pogo's voice pulls you from what you were doing, "Please join us in the living room so you can explain everything." You sigh, nodding before following him. 

As you enter the room, a knife finds its way into the doorway next to you. "Master Diego!" Pogo scolds. "It's fine, Pogo," You say, "It's understandable." Luther lets out a breath, "So Eight, where did you go?" You don't miss the hostility in his voice as you open yours, "After Five ran away, it was painful being here without him and this 'family' became fractured and was going in the opposite direction of healing. One night, I snuck out and a lady found me, offered me a place to stay, offered me a way out of the hellhole." Not that the Commission was any better. "I've been living with her ever since." 

"Wait," Allison says, tone edging suspiciousness, "So you found another person to essentially adopt you and you never came back for us?" You shrug, "It wasn't the kind of place you would want to be." Before anyone else can say anything, there's a glowing, blue light that almost reminds you of lightning and a loud boom. Allison grabs your arm despite your flinching, "We are _not_ done talking about this!" You let her pull you outside with the rest. 

"What is it?"

"Don't get too close—"

"—Yeah, no shit." 

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two," Luther offers that theory. You look away, you _know_ what it is. Someone's time-traveling. 

"Out of the way!" Klaus yells, running out of the house and throwing a _fire extinguisher?_ at the portal. The portal pulses with lightning and Luther pushes you all behind him. A body drops from the portal and it disappears. Allison pulls you along with everyone to crowd around the body as it stands. Shock fills your veins as you recognize the boy. "Does everyone else see little Number Five?" Klaus asks.

"Shit," Five lets out. You pull your arm out of Allison's grip and before anyone can stop you, you're inside in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Five finds you in the kitchen. 

He pulls out a cutting board and the ingredients to his favorite sandwich. The rest of your so-called family pile in the kitchen, sitting anywhere but near you. "What's the date? The exact date?" Five asks. "Uh, the twenty-fourth," Vanya answers.

"Of what?"

"March."

"Good."

"So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asks, looking between you and Five, "I mean, you two just show up out of nowhere on the day of dad's funeral." Five looks up from spreading peanut butter on two pieces of bread like he's just noticed you for the first time, sending you a look you can't decipher.

"It's been seventeen years," Luther interrupts the staring contest, standing up. Five scoffs, moving closer to him, "It's been a lot longer than that." 

"Well," You stand up, "I have to go. Business to take care of." The Handler is going to be pissed that you let that your victim go. "Nope," Five says, "Sit down." You don't because you've never really been afraid of pissing Five off like the rest of your siblings growing up. You take a step like you're challenging him. You are and you know he sees it as one because before you can move there's a knife at your throat and then everything's in slow motion as it always is when you use your power. You're the fastest person in the world, everyone in this room knows that, has faced you and lost in a matter of seconds, even Five. So it's not a surprise to anyone when you're on the opposite side of the room in the next half of a second. 

In fact, it only serves to irritate Five even more. 

"You're staying here, Eight," The boy demands. "Give me a good reason," You say. "I was in the future," He admits, "It's shit by the way. You're all dead." You hear Allison gasp. "Not a good enough reason," You say, one foot already out the door. Five continues as if he hadn't heard you, "Should've listened to the old man and Eight." This stops you in your tracks. "You should've," There's an edge to your voice. 

You don't hear the rest of his speech about how right you were and how he shouldn't have time traveled, you're in another room before he can open his mouth.

* * *

You sit in your old bedroom, listening to one of the old records— _That's Life_ by Frank Sinatra. You're thinking about the day Five disappeared. You had been too slow to stop him which is ironic, considering your power. YOu remember the conversation you had the night before.

He had come to you, asking about time and traveling in it which of course, you would know about. When you're using your power, you're always seconds, minutes ahead of everyone. He had complained about not being able to time travel and you had told him that he shouldn't push it, that maybe Father was right on this one. He had accused you of siding with Father and had spatial jumped before you could defend yourself.

"I thought you were leaving," Five's voice pulls you out of your memories. You give a wry smile, "Haven't made up my mind yet." Five takes this as an invitation to step into your space. You turn to face him in your desk chair, "Where did you go?" 

"Like I said, the future."

"Where exactly in the future?" 

There's a slight hesitation when he answers, "The apocalypse. I saw you, your body. You were dead along with everyone else." 

"How did you come back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." 

"How long?"

"Forty-five years. Give or take."

"So you're consciousness is fifty-eight?"

Five gives a sigh of relief, "Fuckin' finally. Someone who gets it."

A tight-lipped smile appears on your face, "Yeah, well, I have some experience with actual time travel."

"Anyway, why do you look sixteen?" He asks, "I mean, we know why I look sixteen but you?" You shrug, "Father was never able to explain it." Except it wasn't Father. "One day I just stopped physically aging." 

"Well," He says, "It'll be nice to have another person who knows what I'm going through around here."

* * *

The next time you see Five is at the memorial service for Reginald an hour later. He's wearing an old Academy uniform and holding the same black umbrella as the rest of you, sans Klaus who has a clear and pink parasol. He plants himself next to you as the service begins.

As Luther pours Reginald's ashes out, Pogo looks around to see who wants to speak. When none of you open your mouths, he sighs and opens his, "In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master and my friend, and I shall miss him very much." There's a moment of silence as Pogo tries to collect himself, "He leaves behind a complicated legacy—"

"He was a monster," Diego interrupts. You hear Klaus laugh and you can't help the snort that comes out of your mouth. Diego continues, "He was a bad person and a worse father. The world's better off without him." 

"Diego," Allison reprimands. "My name is Number Two," He says sharply, "You know why?" It's silent as he answers his own question, "Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it." You can't help but agree with him. "Look, you wanna pay your respects?" His voice rises, "Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was."

"You should stop talking now," Luther glares. You can't stop the roll of your eyes as you whisper to Five, "Good to know nothing's changed in our absence." He snorts quietly next to you. 

The next thing you see is punches being exchanged. You sigh and turn around, walking back into the house, _guess I'll dance in his ashes later._ Five follows you, "Did you know Ben died?" You face him, "What?" He looks down, muttering, "That answers that." 

"He died," There's a bit of grief in your tone. Next to Five, Ben had been the nicest to you. "Yeah, I asked Vayna about it earlier," He says, "I also discovered that dad had a portrait of me on the wall that _you_ tore down and burned." 

"Because," You begin to defend yourself, "Reginald didn't commission it to honor you. He did it—"

"To remind everyone else how I disobeyed and disappeared," He interrupts, "Vayna told me." 

"She's been awfully chatty these past years," You say, though there's no malice in your voice.

"Have you read her book?"

You shake your head, "I didn't even know she wrote one." 

"She mentioned you a lot," A strange look crosses his face, "You kept your name as a number because you didn't want me to be lonely." You shrug, "Kinda but I was full of spite so I figured I would force him to call me by my name." You turn back around, "I've missed you by the way." 

You leave before he can say anything back.

* * *

You end up staying but only by Allison and Five quite literally forcing you to stay.

"Okay," Allison says, "Eight, explain everything, starting from the night you ran away." You rub the umbrella tattoo on your wrist, "I already told you. I snuck out, a woman found me and adopted me." 

"Without dad finding out?"

"I never said it was a legal adoption." 

"Enough about Eight," Five interrupts, "We have bigger problems than how she disappeared." 

"Like what?" Allison raises an eyebrow. Five begins to move around the kitchen, looking for something. He stops and shakes his head, "Forty-two bedrooms and nineteen bathrooms and not a single drop of coffee." 

"Dad hated caffeine."

"Well," Klaus begins from next to you, "He hated children too, but he had plenty of us." He laughs sardonically.

Five sighs, "I'm taking the car." You jump up, "I'm coming with." You need to get your briefcase anyways. Five nods and ignores the questions from Allison and Klaus, following you as you speed out the door and to the car.

* * *

You slam the door shut as you get out of the car just as Five puts it in park. "Would it kill you to wait two seconds for the car the fully stop moving?" He grabs your elbow to hiss at you. "I see your protective nature is in full swing," You flash a quick grin, pulling your arm out of his grasp. You've always been able to read Five more clearly than the others. You look at the _Griddy's_ neon sign that's flickering and has one of the 'D's out. You sigh wistfully, "This place has turned into a real shithole, huh?"

Five opens the door and doesn't bother holding it open, you're already sitting down, tapping the bell to get the waitress' attention. You don't notice or really care about the tow truck driver that comes in and sits next to Five. The waitress comes after a second, "So what can I get for ya?" 

You open your mouth but the waitress isn't paying you any attention, making you glower as she tells the tow truck driver next to Five, "Sure, uh, can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?"

"Actually," Something between a sneer and a sarcastic smile crosses your face, "one of the kids wants a chocolate donut with sprinkles."

"This kid wants coffee," Five also gives a sarcastic smile, "Black." 

"Sure," The waitress—Agnes, you learn as you lean in to gather her name off her nametag for your shitlist—says before turning around to fulfill your order. You get your donut and begin plotting your plan to sneak out, get your briefcase which is in the alleyway across this shop, and get back without Five noticing. It would be very difficult but not impossible. Your attention is grabbed when the driver stands up and pays. You smile at him in thanks before watching Agnes go to the back. 

The bell jingles as the driver leaves and it jingles again, announcing the arrival of _Commission goons?_ You think as you stare at the reflection in the display case, _Did the Handler find out?_ Your question gets answered as Five opens his mouth, "Hmm, thought I had a bit more time before they found me." You hear a gun cock and watch has the goon behind you points it at your head. You resist the snort that wants to find its way out, they didn't really think they could kill you. 

"Okay," The goon behind you says, "Let's be professional about this. They want to talk." 

"I've got nothing to say," FIve responds, watching from the bell on the counter. "It doesn't have to be this way," The goon turns to pleading, "You think I want to shoot two kids? You know what the Handler will do to me if I shoot her daughter?"

Five shoots you a questioning glance as you breathe out a response, "Not anything worse than what I'm going to do to you." There's a moment of silence as everyone processes your words and that gives you your chance. Before the goon behind can react, his throat is already slit and the killing begins. 

* * *

"So," Five sneers as he unwraps his tie from a goon's neck and puts it back on, "The Handler's daughter, huh?" 

"Why is the Commission after you?"

"Don't change the subject," He snaps before sitting down at the counter. You sigh in annoyance from your place on the other side, "It's a simplified title. I don't even call her mother anymore." Then you shoot him a confused look, "How do you know the Handler well enough to be mad?" He lets out a deep breath, putting his arm out for you to begin cutting it open, "Long story short: I worked at the Commission for the past year." Realization dawns on you, "They kept you from me."

"What?"

You dig in the open wound, pulling out a green tracker, "The Handler kept you from me. I've been with the Commission for the past seventeen years and not once did I catch wind of you being there." He pulls his arm back, gesturing to yours. You shake your head, "Perks of being her daughter, trusts me enough to not put a tracker in my arm." He stands and you jump over the counter, "I need to get something before we go."

"Your briefcase?"

You smile, teasingly, leaning to pinch his cheek, "So smart, Five." He swats your hand away, "Hurry up." 

You cross the street to the alleyway and look under the garbage bin where you had hidden the briefcase. You gasp when you realize it's not there.

Suddenly, everything freezes.

"Looking for this?" The voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and alarms go off in your head. "Such a shame, really," The blonde woman dressed to the nines continues, "Maybe I should've put a tracker in you." Her voice turns to faux sorrow, "I mean, I trusted you to get a simple job done, and when I come to check on you, you're scheming with my arch-nemesis." 

"He's my brother," You gather enough confidence to try and defend yourself and Five. " _He_ abandoned you, sweetie," The Handler leans in, "and he'll do it again as soon as he gets the chance to ditch you."

"You're wrong."

"Am I?" The smile on her face makes you want to run, "How many times have I been wrong in your life?" You can't come up with an answer. "Exactly," She says, circling you like a lion, "Why would I be wrong about this?" She stops in front of you and leans in, "I _know_ Five, dear. He is not the same person you knew him as." You feel the cold metal of the handgun tucked safely in the waistline of your pants. Her fingers trace your cheek, "Come on, Eight. You know I'm right. Come back with me and your defiance will be forgiven." 

You stiffen. Those were the same words Reginald had used one night when he had caught you sneaking out. Your defiance that night had not been forgiven and it won't be forgiven now. 

The Handler only feels pain as a bullet lands itself in the right side of her forehead.

* * *

"Alright," You say as you seem to materialize out of thin air next to Five, "You go get that wound looked at and I’ll go back to the mansion."

"What about your briefcase?" Five asks. "Oh, uh, something came up," You say, flashing him a fake smile. Then you're gone, much to Five's annoyance. _Fine,_ he thinks as he gets into the car, _I'll find out what she's hiding later._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!!!


	3. happy together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five rolls his eyes again and says in near disbelief, "Eight really is the only sibling that's worth being around." You grin at Luther and for a moment, everything feels alright. 

You run as fast as you can.

The Handler isn't dead, you know that. She's just in a comatose state, no thanks to the metal plate in her head from a job in Shanghai. You can't go back to the Academy, can't risk your siblings getting in the crossfire of what you know is coming. 

But you have no other place to go. 

So you burst in the front door, startling Allison and Klaus. "You guys have to go," You say as you gather their—well, Allison's, Klaus didn't really have anything—stuff and shove it into their hands. "W-Wait," Allison says, planting her feet so you can't push her towards the door, "Why?"

"Don't really have time to explain," You grunt, pushing back against her. She takes a step to the side, making you fall forward. You react fast enough to catch yourself. "Make time," She hisses. You sigh, annoyed that they aren't following your orders, "I did something and now I'm gonna have dangerous people after me." Allison rolls her eyes, "You're purposely being vague."

"How do you know?"

"Because," She stamps her foot, "I know you, Eight." You shake your head, "Not anymore." She gives you a confused look to which you respond, "It's been seventeen years since I've seen any of you. To me, you're all strangers I call my siblings because it's the easiest title to call you. I don't even know your favorite color." Before Allison—Klaus is too high to be listening—can say anything, lightning forms around you and you turn into a blur.

You run because it's the only thing you can think to do. It's the only thing you've been doing for the past seventeen years, running from your family, your problems.

You run to the only sibling you know who won't question you.

* * *

It's easy enough to find Vanya's apartment, especially because you can see a flash of blue light as Five spatial jumps.

Vanya opens the door after a couple of knocks. There's surprise as well as confusion evident in her voice as she says, "Eight!?" You wave nervously, "Uh, hey, Vanya. Can I come in?"

"O-Oh, yeah, sure," She moves back from the door and allows you in. You see Five on the couch with a blanket. He raises his eyebrows in a question that you don't want to answer so you mouth _later_ and hope later doesn't come. "Sorry," You say, turning around to face her, "For barging in on your personal space, this was the only place I could think of." A little lie doesn't hurt anyone(except they do because they lead to bigger lies). 

"I-Uh, what?" Vayna sends a confused glance to Five who shrugs his shoulders. "Don't worry about it," You dismiss her, "Can I stay here?" Vanya nods and nearly trips on her words, "Uh, yeah, sure. But Five has the couch so..."

"Oh, I'll take the recliner, don't worry," You say as you walk over to Five and steal the blanket away from him before settling down. "I-I'll get you another blanket, Five," Vanya nods once to him before doing so and leaving you two in the living room to sleep.

"Only place you could think of," There's a scoff of disbelief, "What? Are you on the run now?" 

"Something like that," You respond, "Commission will be after me." 

"What did you do?"

"You have enough on your hands with getting used to your new body."

"And the apocalypse," He mutters. You shoot up, remembering what he said previously about it, "The apocalypse?" 

"In eight days, the world comes to an end."

"Have you told anyone else?"

He scoffs, "They all think I'm crazy and I might be." Then something comes to you, "No, you're not. I remember the Handler saying something about the end of the world and how it must happen right before I left for my last mission." 

Five's suddenly in your face, "Do you know who causes it?" You lean back, shaking your head, "No, sorry. She trusted me a lot but not with that." He's back on the couch with a sigh before he perks up, "Come with me. I have something to do."

* * *

"You think he'll be in here?"

"Of course, Cha Cha, and hopefully Eight's with him. You know, kill two birds with one stone."

* * *

Five leads you to a department store, up the aisle to "A mannequin?" You sound exasperated. "Her name is Delores," He gives you a look.

"You named her?" 

"Listen," He breathes deeply, "I got lonely in the post-apocalyptic future."

"Yeah, yeah," You say, looking around nervously. The Commission will have found out about the Handler and will have sent a kill order out for you by now. "I think we should hurry up."

Before he can respond, there's a deafening echo of gunshots and the bullets land themselves in Delores' lower half. You dive in the opposite direction than Five and the world slows down as you speed up. You can see the bullets suspended in midair, slowly making their way towards you and Five. You follow the path of the bullets back to the guns and the people shooting them. You recognize the blue bear and the pink dog masks: _Hazel and Cha Cha._

You see Hazel move towards the place you saw Five go and Cha Cha towards you. 

"Shoot at anything that moves!" You hear Cha Cha yell to her partner. Everything is distorted in slow motion as you run towards the dressing rooms, seeing the blue light of a spatial jump out of the corner of your eyes. You hear Cha Cha cry out in pain as something smashes against the side of her neck. You turn sharply before you run into the dressing rooms and speed past Hazel, grabbing his gun and pushing it upwards, making him fall backward. You don't feel the bottom of your dress ripping. 

When you stop, Cha Cha is pointing her gun at Five and you feel the cold metal of Hazel's gun against your skull. You send a silent prayer and it's answered in the form of police sirens that distract Hazel and Cha Cha for a second which is all you need. You use the distraction to get out of the store through the backdoor. 

You stop in the alleyway, deciding to go the opposite way than the police cars. You feel your stomach twist when you don't see Five but you shrug it off.

He's good at surviving.

* * *

You make it back to the mansion, quietly opening and closing the door so you didn't disturb anyone. You zip up the stairs to your room. You take off your ruined dress and with contempt, put on your old academy uniform since it seemed to be the only thing to fit you. 

You hear voices down the hall, Luther and Allison no doubt. Then you hear the front door open and Allison say, "Five? What the hell happened to you?" 

You lay down on your bed, focusing on the creaking its making, and feel exhaustion settle into your bones. It always did after you used your power for longer than five minutes. 

You let that exhaustion lull you into a deep sleep.

* * *

"—ght," A light voice floats over your ears, pulling you out of your sleep, "Eight."

Pretty, curly, brown hair is the first thing your eyes take notice of when they open.

"Allison?" You bring your hands up to your eyes and rub the sleep out, shaking her hands off your shoulders in the process. "Yeah," She confirms, standing from where she was sitting on the bed. "How long was I out?" You ask, yawning.

"A day and a half." 

"How did you know I was here?"

"I was walking to my room and you left the door open," Allison explains. "Ah," You nod in understanding, "What about Five?" You remember hearing him come into the mansion. "Oh," She says, "He left for the day." You nod again and let the silence wash over the both of you. You study her, watching as she shifts from one foot to the other, opening and closing her mouth like it can't form the words she wants it to. 

You stretch your arms, pulling them over your head, "If you have something to say, spit it out. You look like a fish." Allison's mouth closes in shock at the insult before muttering about how rude you've gotten, then she opens her mouth again, "I just wanted to apologize for not being a better sister to you. Maybe if I had been, you..."

"...wouldn't have run away?" You finish for her. She nods, grimacing. You stare at the blanket on the bed, "Maybe."

* * *

Allison leaves soon after, wanting to go find Vanya and apologize to her for not being a better sister. You want to find out what's all transpired while you were out. You could go to Luther, who was the only one in the mansion right now, but you've never been close to him. In fact, he's the one you're the farthest from. So you decide to look for someone outside the mansion. You find Klaus in the garbage bin in the alleyway beside the mansion. He's digging for something and doesn't notice you creep beside him. He pops up, holding an item decorated with gold and promptly screams at your presence. He holds his hand to his heart, calming down, "Jeez, Eight. Give a guy some notice before you sneak up on him."

"Sorry," You smile at him, "Won't do it again." A snort comes from his mouth, "That's a lie if I've ever heard one." Then he looks to his side, "Yeah, I do remember. She liked scaring Diego and me as kids."

"Who are you talking to?" You interrupt. He waves you off, "Just Ben." 

"Oh!" You perk up, "Tell him I said hi and that I miss him." Klaus rolls his eyes, "He says he missed you too." 

"Anyways," You say, "What's happened in the last day?" 

"Oh, not a whole lot. Luther thinks Mom killed Dad, Five...actually, let's go visit him." 

You give him a look of confusion but follow him out of the alleyway, meeting Luther on the sidewalk who stops you. "I'm trying to find Five," The giant explains. Klaus claps his hands together, "What a coincidence! So are we."

* * *

"You're talking to a mannequin?" You question as you open the door to the van Five's in. "Shut up," He snaps, watching as you invite yourself into the van and moving to the back to let Luther struggle to fit through the door. 

"How did you guys find me?" Five asks. You point back to Klaus who's dancing with Delores, and then you duck as Five throws something at him. "Anyways, what exactly are you doing?" You ask as Klaus lets out an offended noise. Five rolls his eyes at the noise and opens his mouth to answer your question, "You see this eye?" Your eyes go to his hand which is holding a prosthetic in it. He continues, "This is the only lead I have on who starts the apocalypse and this building in front of us is the place who makes it." 

"Ah," You let out, understanding his reasoning. Both of you ignore Luther when he sends a questioning glance and you both only notice Klaus sneak out of the van when he's racing across the street with a handful of stolen goods from the convenience store. 

Five rolls his eyes again and says in near disbelief, "Eight really is the only sibling that's worth being around." You grin at Luther and for a moment, everything feels alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for accidently abandoning this story for like two months lmao. life's been hetic. i've been living on an air mattress in my cousin's living room, work's been shitty. BUT! i moved into an apartment on the 2nd so i've have my own bed again, my own room. it's getting better. thank you for reading. kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. hope you enjoy!!!!!!


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